


Four Square

by AndreaLyn



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was supposed to be a quiet night in the bar turns into a <i>very</i> good night for Jim Kirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Square

There’s been a crowd around the bar for ten minutes and Jim Kirk knows that this means that’s where the party’s at. Usually it’s him making a scene with a couple shots, a couple flirtatious winks, and a couple jokes about farm animals – not that he’s ever going to tell people what  _actually_ happened between him and Leticia the Goat. This time, he’s only just arrived to the bar and is waiting for Bones to join him when he hears the commotion.   
  
A rousing cheer goes up within the crowd and Jim takes that as his signal to slide into the fray and find himself a space leaning against the bar next to a well-dressed brunette. She has her hair neatly tied in a braid that falls neatly on the bare skin of her back and a silk blue dress that clings to all the curves.  
  
It stands out considering the dive-bar they’re in. There are only two other women wearing dresses in the place and one is currently leaving with an Admiral and the other is a curvy blonde dancing by herself on the dance floor, her back to Jim and giving nothing more than the presentation of a _very_  incredible ass that Jim will have to get acquainted with later.   
  
“Can I buy you the next round?” Jim asks over the noise of the bar, sliding onto the bar stool next to Miss Blue-Silk-Brunette. She turns to look at him and crosses her legs smoothly, high heels sliding up the fabric of his grey trousers as she leans close and something in her eyes light up when she takes a good look at him.  
  
She lifts an empty shotglass and contemplates it for a moment, tipping it back to lick away the dregs of tequila before setting it down. “Only if you’re Jim Kirk.”  
  
“Has my reputation really preceded me?” Jim asks with a laugh, pleasantly surprised at the notion that his leg-work has been done for him. Well, maybe. He has to hope that she’s only heard the good news. That and he has to hope that Bones arrives soon so he can sign off on a temporary dalliance for the night.   
  
They’ve arrived at an agreement. Bones has to watch. Jim can do whatever he likes with whomever he likes, but Bones has to be there and has to watch – and has somehow become ‘Bones calls the shots’ lately.   
  
Jim’s opening his mouth to agree when he sees the glint of silver on her left hand on  _that_  finger, shining bright like an accusing cry waiting to happen.  
  
“Or not,” he amends.   
  
“Buy me a drink and then buy one for yourself. And then buy five more apiece,” Miss Blue says to him with a wicked little hint of a grin. “You and me, we’re going to play a little game.”  
  
Jim thinks that maybe he should be afraid of that proposition, but she’s twisting shotglasses with long and beautifully tapered fingers and he stops caring and starts thinking about what her lips will look like when they’re wetted down with alcohol and wicked intent.   
  
“What’s your name, anyway?” Jim wonders as he feels breath on his neck, telling him that the crowd has begun to grow as curious onlookers gather round.   
  
She just grins at him and taps the rim of the first shotglass with two fingers. “Leah,” she responds and lifts the glass to him. “Cheers.”  
  
“May the best man win,” Jim announces, feeling no compulsion to label her anything else because there’s a look on her face that says she’ll eat him alive if he dares to think any less of her for her sex.   
  
*  
  
McCoy’s late to the bar, but he’s fairly sure his excuse will hold up. He’d only been saving a  _life_  and he’s sure that Mr. Flannery will be grateful to McCoy in years to come even if Jim is bound to whine about him being too late to the party. Seems like Jim’s occupied, though. McCoy catches sight of him in the midst of a crowd drinking shot-for-shot with a brunette woman whose cleavage seems to be designed to be the first thing to be noticed about her.   
  
“Damn it, Jim,” he growls to himself.   
  
He’s ready to turn right around and leave to get a good night’s sleep when he feels a hand catch his bicep. He sees red nail-varnish first before he sees the spaghetti-strap red dress on a curvy, busty, incredibly-shaped woman and with a gorgeous face to match.  
  
He also sees the way she’s throwing glances at the bar and the longing look on her face. It’s almost enough for another ‘damn it, Jim’, but he doesn’t have time before he’s processing the way she’s pulling him into her arms or the gold ring she’s wearing on a chain on her neck or the way she’s batting her eyelashes at him.   
  
“Dance with me?” she asks prettily.   
  
McCoy opens his mouth to refuse, but then she clasps hold of his hips and pulls them flush against hers as if she’s not about to take no for an answer. He sighs and rolls his eyes heavenwards as if to protest this great injustice done against him in the form of a beautiful woman wanting to dance with him.   
  
Another cheer goes up around the bar and McCoy mutters another ‘damn it’, sliding his hand through the woman’s thick blonde hair as if in protest.  
  
“Oh, just ignore them,” she advises dreamily, swaying back and forth to an old jazz tune on the jukebox. “They’ll be done soon enough when she loses.”  
  
McCoy opens his mouth to ask who the ‘she’ in question is, but the blonde’s hand has found its way to his ass and is grabbing with great intent. “Look, miss. I don’t even know your name…”  
  
“Jamie!”  
  
“Well, Jamie, while you’re single-handedly the most incredible woman I’ve ever seen since my ex-wife…”  
  
“…Huh. So it’s an ex-wife here, huh?”  
  
“…I’m sort of taken by that jackass at the bar who’s currently trying to impress that dark-haired woman whose attention you keep trying to get,” McCoy finishes and offers her a bewildered look. “I’m sorry, what do you know about my ex-wife?”  
  
“Oh,  _baby_ ,” Jamie sighs. “Everything. That bastard had to get a punch in the face to leave you alone the last time we all crossed paths.” She eases back and flashes a cocky grin at him that has McCoy’s heart sinking into his stomach as he puts every single damn piece of this puzzle together. He looks across the room and peers through the parted crowd to catch a better glimpse at the woman matching Jim shot for shot. Jamie pulls his attention back by grabbing his chin and smirking. “Don’t get so pent-up, he doesn’t know. He just sees the breasts, but she hasn’t even stood up yet,” Jamie sighs dreamily. “Oh, just you wait.”  
  
McCoy’s heart tries to jump back up and lodge itself in his throat, but he tries to force himself to go on and get these words out. “Jamie Kirk,” he accuses, about to find out if he’s right.  
  
“Bones,” she tenderly responds, pulling him closer so she can rest her cheek on his shoulder as the jukebox clicks and continues onto some romantic song about love and life. “You’re  _gorgeous_ ,” she murmurs. “But I really didn’t have any doubt. Leah, though. Leah thought she’d be some thin slip of a man. Short, too.”  
  
Some part of McCoy’s mind wants to figure this out, wants to try and put  _meaning_  to this encounter, but the woman known as Jamie Kirk is currently goosing his ass and letting out a pleased little murmur as if she likes what she’s found and McCoy suddenly doesn’t know how to let his brain handle this.  
  
“You’ve got a ring,” is what he eventually decides to announce.  
  
“I do,” Jamie brightly agrees, giving McCoy a wary look as if wondering where that statement came from. “I also have  _hair_ , a  _dress_ ,  _shoes_ ,” she adds, as if that’s something of a thrill. She pinches his ass and lets loose a daring grin, something glinting in her eyes that makes McCoy’s blood rush for lower. “Let’s give them a couple more minutes and grab them before they make idiots of themselves,” she suggests in a whisper.   
  
McCoy has the feeling that though this is a Jim of a different persuasion, she’s got him just as wrapped around her little finger as Jim does with him.   
  
*  
  
They’ve both had five shots apiece. Her eyes are glimmering with mischief as she leans forward and some of the hair bound up with pins falls out and frames her face as she stares him down, a quirk of a grin on her lips to match his. “Another shot?” Jim asks, the warmth coursing through his body concentrating on one area in particular. She looks across the bar to the dance floor and he follows her gaze to see that Bones has made it and is currently slow-dancing with the hot blonde from before. “I don’t blame you for eyeing his ass,” Jim slurs. “It’s  _gorgeous_.”  
  
“I was eyeing hers, thanks,” Leah gruffly responds. “Come on. Another shot while you’re still capable of making lewd comments about all men and women in the immediate radius.”  
  
Jim opens his mouth to insist that he doesn’t do that, but it sounds like whining in his head, so he can’t imagine it’s going to sound much better aloud. Instead, he bolsters himself and straightens his posture so that he can take the next shot, eyes drifting back to the dance floor as some possessive flare in him says that this woman in red isn’t allowed to have her hands all over Bones like that. She’s not allowed to grab at his ass because that’s his ass to grab. He realizes that his attention is drifting only when Leah reaches over to clasp his chin.   
  
“Jim? You still with me?”  
  
Jim blinks rapidly and stares down at the tequila that seems to be staring back up at him with  _eyes_  and possibly concern (which is a worrisome sign).  
  
Leah sighs and reaches forward to pry the drink from him, sliding off her stool and steadying on her heels, adjusting the skirt while Jim’s mouth goes dry at the sight of her legs while walking away. She’s heading out to the dance floor to the woman and his Bones, to  _his_  Bones and now there’s a two-to-one ratio and Jim doesn’t like that math at all. He stumbles to his feet to rush after her.   
  
“Leah! Hey! Whoa,” he snaps. “Where are you…”  _going?_  
  
She’s right beside the woman and offering her the glass, reaching over to press two fingers lovingly to the gold ring on the chain around her neck, leaning in for a kiss. She definitely doesn’t give a crap about Bones, but she’s starting to make a scene with the busty blonde on the dance floor and Jim adjusts his jeans slightly while his brain starts to make noise about how very much he likes the sight of that.   
  
He barely notices that anyone else is in the bar until Bones smacks him upside the head. “Stop staring at us,” he growls, which confuses Jim for a single second of a moment before suddenly his genius brain kicks into gear.  
  
 _Us_.   
  
“Oh hell,” Jim curses, blinking and trying to scrub the image out of his mind at the same time as something insists that he has every right in the world to be staring at this. “Bones, are you saying…”  
  
Leah turns, dabbing her thumb at the corner of her lips to wipe away stray marks of lipstick. “That I’m Leah McCoy and this is Jamie Kirk? Yes, he is. And she calls me Bones, too, so it might get a little confusing if you’re going to insist on using that name all night.”  
  
Jim’s eyes go wider yet. “…night?”  
  
“We didn’t just skip universes to have a drink,” Leah drawls simply, her brow arching gracefully upwards as she slides her arm comfortably around Jamie’s waist. Leah’s taller by about two inches, but that might just be height disparity caused by the insanely high heels that Leah is insisting on wearing. Jamie has brushed aside those stray wisps of hair at Leah’s neck, pressing kisses to her lips in between secretive whispers, all of which Leah responds to with ‘I know’ aimed soft and to her right. “Well? Aren’t you gentleman going to invite us back to your place?”  
  
“How do you know we have a place?” Bones mutters, clearly displeased with this whole scenario.  
  
“They’re us, Bones,” Jim points out. “I’m pretty sure they know most of our lives.”  
  
“It’s a little apartment with an ocean view, right?” Jamie provides helpfully.   
  
Jim and Leonard exchange wary glances, coughing mildly. They had looked at that apartment once, but couldn’t afford it and Starfleet wouldn’t place them there because it’s family housing. Jim peers at the ceiling while Bones averts his gaze leftwards.  
  
“After you got married, they didn’t move you there?” Leah contributes, slightly suspicious.   
  
“Yeah, see, we…aren’t married,” Jim gets out, starting to feel like that awkward elephant in the corner of the room is just getting bigger and bigger at this point. He’d seen the ring and had forgotten it summarily because it hadn’t meant much. Now it seems to mean everything in this strange little quartet of a situation. “Bones and I just have this arrangement where if I’m sleeping with someone else, he has to watch.”  
  
Leah rolls her eyes and shoots Jamie an irritated look.   
  
“I know, I know,” Jamie says calmly, using her hands for a gesture. “It’s okay, this doesn’t change things, we’ll just go back to your place on campus. That’s where we were before we got moved. A bed’s a bed’s a bed, Leah,” Jamie notes pointedly, giving the other woman a stern look that seems to be daring her to disagree just to see what consequences she might earn.   
  
Leah huffs and puffs, but no walls come down and she finally assents with a nod. “Fine,” she notes tersely. “We’ll go back to your place.”  
  
“Maybe along the way, you can tell us what the hell you’re doing here,” Bones says, sounding just as pissed, though likely for a different reason. He’s definitely not ready to get married again, Jim’s drawn that out of him on too many bar-nights out.   
  
Jim watches the easy way that Leah and Jamie link arms and start wandering off without the signs that either has been drinking even though he can tell from their breaths that they’ve been engaging in that little activity all night. Jamie’s the one who glances over her shoulder and looks at the both of them -- all her beauty hiding that canny genius she has under the surface if she really is anything like Jim. “No,” she sweetly replies.  
  
They look so easy-going together. Their steps are in sync and it makes Bones look his way, as if to wonder if they look the same.   
  
“Bones,” Jim says flatly. “Two incredibly hot women want to do us. Are you honestly going to look this gift horse in the mouth?”  
  
“It’s goddamn incestuous,” he mutters.  
  
“Yeah, I was of that same opinion at first,” Leah assures. “But there’s enough differences at the minor levels that lets me put my misgivings aside.”  
  
“For instance?” Jim asks, biting that large piece of bait.   
  
“Ask Leah what she can do with her tongue!” Jamie prompts.  
  
“Let’s not,” Leah says evenly with a glare in Jamie’s direction. “I’m talking about family histories and siblings – Sam’s a girl, Jim – and children because I don’t think that my Joanna is your Joanna, not exactly,” she continues, slowing down her pace to look properly at Bones. Jim takes the chance to look at him as well and Bones  _definitely_  looks like he’s not exactly doing so well. “Anyway, the rest is probably down to the chromosomal level.”   
  
“Bones, don’t faint,” Jim implores, leaning in close to press a nip of a kiss to his neck as if that’ll coax some of his blood to start pumping again.  
  
He knows that asking that may be like asking for the world, but Bones does manage to stay vertical until they get back to the apartment, which suddenly looks cramped when you put four people in there.   
  
Jim doesn’t even manage to close the door before heels, necklaces, and dresses start peeling off.   
  
He has the feeling that they’re both in for a hell of a night.  
  
*  
  
Jim wakes to the sensation of five limbs splayed across his body. He vaguely makes out two feminine legs, two masculine arms wrapped around his waist, and one very lasciviously placed feminine arm draped close to his crotch. With a peek of his eyes open, he places them all (Leah, Bones, and Jamie, respectively).   
  
He stretches slowly, body aching in places that he’s not sure he wants to think about and catches Leah awake as well, staring at him while Jamie and Bones snore away.  
  
“What?” Jim asks, feeling like his hand has been caught in the cookie jar. Which, really, shouldn’t demand a glare so fierce because when Bones caught his hand in the cookie jar (literally) earlier, all he got was a lecture on salad.   
  
They still don’t know why they’ve come and while Jim appreciates the thought that it’s all for really good sex, he’s sure there’s some other reason. Neither of the women seem too keen on telling them what it is, so Jim is going to stop pushing and then when they’re gone, he’ll retrace all the steps and try and figure it out.   
  
Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it gives Jim an itch that drives him to scratching the damn thing wide open.   
  
Leah sleepily shakes her head as she starts searching for her clothes. “Nothing,” she admits, stretching and contorting her body to place a soft kiss to Jamie’s neck, earning a happy snuffled sigh from Jamie as a result. “Just looking.”  
  
“While you’re naked, I can do some of that, too,” Jim replies with a cocky grin. And Bones must be awake too, because that slap upside the head is just too firm and alert for him to be asleep. “Ow,” Jim complains.  
  
The delighted smile Leah gives is almost, but not quite worth the pain.   
  
“Are you going?” Jim asks, voice softer than before. His hand is busy rubbing the back of his head and trying to sort puzzle pieces into place, even though they’re all jagged and mismatched at this point in time.  
  
Leah shrugs and slides that blue dress over her shoulders. “Scotty has very clear directions about exactly when she’s bringing us back over. It’s down to the minute and if we miss our ride, well...let’s just say that a good number of things depends on us getting back on time. Trust us.” She leans over, her leg splaying over Bones’ torso and pressing a lazy kiss to Jim’s lips. He cups her cheeks and keeps her close, trying to tug her back down atop of him, even if Leah is resisting enough to keep verticality.  
  
She pulls away and flashes an apologetic look as she shuffles off the bed, grabbing her heels in her hand.   
  
“Jamie, wake-up call!” Leah announces bluntly, heading to the curtains and yanking them open, forcing sunlight to spill into the room. She walks back to the bed with definite purpose, pulling at Jamie’s hand. “I will make you beam back naked if you don’t get dressed,” she warns. “And then I’ll have to hypo every last person who stares at your breasts. Into oblivion.”  
  
Jamie gives a disgruntled whine at that, burying her face back into the pillow.  
  
Leah sighs heavily and exchanges a wordless look with Bones. Jim watches with appropriate awe as they seem to have a conversation and he gets the feeling that he’s somehow being silently talked about. Bones groans and disappears under the thick blankets. Jim isn’t sure what exactly he’s doing, but Jamie gives a sharp and surprised squeak and bolts upright.  
  
“I’m awake! I’m awake!” she gasps, glaring at Leah. “You’re so mean when there are two of you,” she bitches as she grabs for her dress, shimmying back into it without a speck of underwear – which Jim is fairly sure are strewn in the front hall yet. She rubs at her eyes and lets out a content purr of a sound when Leah sits down behind her to comb out her hair. “Do we have to go?”  
  
“T-minus thirty before we go home,” Leah says apologetically, fishing a hairband from her small purse and using it to tie up Jamie’s hair, glancing at Jim over her shoulder. “You boys going to be okay or do I need to worry about some existential crises?”  
  
“Think we’ll manage,” Bones drawls, his lazy morning voice as delicious as ever to Jim’s ears. “You two be okay to head out on your own to hit your rendez-vous point?”  
  
“Think we’ll manage,” Leah replies and it is just downright eerie how similar their voices sound when the cadence and the words match exactly. She stands, pulling Jamie up with her and collecting another pair of shoes. “If the intel we’ve got is good, then we’ll be seeing you again. And boys, thank you. Really.”  
  
“Really,” Jamie insists, sounding almost grave. “I know it may sound crazy and embellished, but you letting us be here did a lot of good.”  
  
Jim opens his mouth to ask more questions, but a light pinch at his hips from Bones shuts him up, relaxing back against the covers where there are only two limbs wrapped around his body anymore. “Be safe,” he insists, worried about whatever they’re walking back into.   
  
There’s no production as they leave. The click of the door is followed by silence and the strange air that washes over them and makes Jim wonder if that’s actually  _just happened_.  
  
He can’t function on this little sleep and crawls back under the blankets, tugging at the pillow Jamie had been using, burying his face in it as he tries to get comfortable again. Bones is already started to shuffle around, probably making coffee and tidying up like the over-responsible stick in the mud he can occasionally be.  
  
“Bones,” Jim calls over, voice muffled by the pillow. “Come back to bed.” By the smell of the coffee from a few feet away, he knows that he’s out of luck. With a sleepy grin, Jim concedes that he at least had to  _try_.   
  
He wraps his arms tighter around the pillow and falls asleep to very,  _very_  good memories and the knowledge that when he wakes up there’ll be coffee and a tidy apartment.  
  
And really, what more could you ask for?


End file.
